Bob narrowly missed being run over by a douche canoe on a lime scooter. Why WHYYYYYYYYY were these stupid things allowed on the festival grounds? He rattled his middle phalanges after the talking D-bag and shook it off. He was on stage in 15. He needed to get his occiput in the game. At least the throngs of humans in historically inaccurate costumes made it easy to blend in as long as he kept his hood up. Most were too drunk to notice there was no way to achieve this level of transparency without magicks, and anyone who did take a second or third look usually managed to convince themselves they could NOT have seen a walking skeleton in a pirate coat. The festival circuit was usually a pretty safe place for a cursed pile of sentient calcium and phosphate. He did hate scaring the littles though, so he tried to stay to the more adult-themed shows and outskirts of the festival crowd. He was almost safely to the green room when he saw it.
At first, he thought the pile of red and white sparkle fabric might be a shop awning that had fallen or a cloak cast off from a reveler too deep in his mead, but then it began to move, and THEN it began to grow. He looked around, expecting the crowd of normies playing dress up to start screaming, but no one seemed to notice. In fact, no one seemed to be looking at the giant at all. A towering pair of legs covered in the glittering circus print might have come across as a human stilt walker until your eyes made it up far enough. That’s when everything went terribly wrong. Instead of legs turning into a torso the legs started multiplying and folding in on themselves somehow, a cacophony of 1000 accordion pleats billowing in every direction like a carnival Seraphim.
“oh for fucks sake Sephi!” you almost gave me a heart attack! Trying to blend in were you?”
“Have to have a heart to have a heart attack,” a chorus of disharmony answered.
The chaos of stripes folded in around itself until a ball of fluff stood in its place, she was almost nonthreatening, cute even, as long as she kept all those eyes closed.
“What in the 9 realms are you doing here?”
“Come on Bob, you know what day it is.”
He hadn’t remembered, actually. He’d been too focused on his slate of shows.
FUCK
“Come on Seph, it’s festival season! I have 3 shows today, big stage too. Primo tips”
“I don’t think he cares about tips Bob.”
Bob slumped and cradled himself so dramatically his arms played xylophone with his rib cage.
“I’ll be with you old friend, its okay”
The fluff extended something that might have been a wing and might have been an arm and tore a hole in the world.
Another scooter carrying a douche canoe crashed into a nearby picnic table.
Bob grabbed the nearest and least likely to be an eyeball puff of floof and smiled weakly at his friend.
The tear in the world closed behind the Seraphim and the Bone man and they walked off into the rest of the story.
–
Leigh Fisher 